


Let the Scales Fall Away

by neevebrody



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-10
Updated: 2011-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:34:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neevebrody/pseuds/neevebrody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrenaline flooded his veins, tightening his muscles, as he swung around in the other direction, making the chains he hung from sing in the dank air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the Scales Fall Away

**Author's Note:**

> The story was inspired first by Melagan's [third drawing in this post](http://melagan.livejournal.com/183857.html#cutid1), and more directly by [Handcuffed Lorne](http://pics.livejournal.com/calcitrix/pic/000ezbgy) by Calcitrix.

The room was heavy with the scent of dirt and decay, a dark mix of organic and metallic. He turned his head back and forth seeking the source of the low thrum that seemed to give the room a pulse of its own. Not finding it, he didn't need to strain to hear the far sound of dripping water. Lonely and methodical. A cadence he used to try to slow his breathing and his heartbeat.

He thought about the day. The mission to M7X-329 had been fraught from the beginning. Sheppard, a master of understatement, had said they'd just get boots on the ground and hope for the best. Best wasn't exactly the word that leapt to mind.

A noise in the corner had him jerk his head in the direction of the soft padding. Was it circling him? Adrenaline flooded his veins, tightening his muscles, as he swung around in the other direction, making the chains he hung from sing in the dank air. A cuff at each wrist and a collar at his neck – leather from the smell and feel of it.

The soft sound stopped in front of him. He dared to relax, just enough to plant his knees and shins firmly on the cool floor. The buzzing grew louder, or was that just an echo from the pulse of blood in his ears?

As the blindfold slipped away, sense blindness was saved only by the acid glow of the hydroponic panels spanning the ceiling. He blinked in the soft violet haze, trying not to notice how the color loved the nakedness of the man who had first tied the silken veil. His skin seemed to glow and undulate in Lorne's mutable vision.

The rays of light seemed split by the hand extended in his direction, red on one side, blue on the other. Still, the man's unwavering finger, as it traced the outline and curve of his straining bicep, lingering over the intricate ink, made him flinch. In fact, the man seemed infused with some sort of alien energy: every caress sent shivers over him in waves and skin burned hot where he touched.

Without word or warning, the collar tightened with a loud chink of the chains. The pull was steady. Lorne cursed under his breath. Back, back, and up, and he moved with it to keep from choking, going with it until his body was arched in such a way that forced his half-hard cock against the rough material of the only garment he'd been given: a pair of utilitarian pants, slung low at the hips, and tight, so that the pressure on his groin was almost as intense as the pull in his shoulders.

He did his best to keep his balance, to keep himself from swinging like some freshly caught animal. Hard to do with the position lifting his knees from the ground. Heart pounding, he cast around for options, a rather optimistic line of thought broken by a blaze of pleasure-pain as the man twisted a nipple, making him arch even more, the detail of his muscles like carved stone. Catching his breath, Lorne immediately tried to shut down his senses. He'd be damned if he'd succumb. Resist. Resist. Resist.

Years of training had taught him many tricks, but as the man prodded his almost erection with a long, slender glass rod, Lorne couldn't think of a one. Again, he strained, protesting his position, sending jagged, white-hot bolts across his upper body. The other nipple begged for the same treatment even as he twisted away from the touch. Yet, he didn't want it to stop, and that said something about him, something he wasn't particularly interesting in examining too closely at the moment, if ever.

At that, the man's eyes darkened a deep blue-grey. Lorne saw him reach and felt the fire at the same time, expecting it, arching into the exquisite dichotomy of pain and arousal, allowing the air to hiss through his teeth at the _coup de grace_ – the rhythmic flick of the man's finger to the pebble-hard nub. Alternating dull thumps with the sharp scrape of nail sent Lorne spiraling down a violet-hued tunnel as the collar eased and his knees hit the ground.

"So beautiful in this light." The man's voice was silk and as cool as the room, his words delivered in an awe-filled, yet detached fashion. "But not as strong as you think you are, I'll wager."

Lorne cursed himself. Knew he'd given away too much. Drawing himself up, his body taut, he took a deep breath of defiance and glared back mutely. Not quite able, though, to keep the man's very erect cock from his peripheral vision. The way the light hit the length of it made the back of Lorne's throat itch.

The man began to circle again, or was it parading? "Yes, Major, as you can see, I'm not very strong myself… seeing you like this…" The man stopped behind him, his voice still cool, but with a much harder edge. "Well, you seem to have quite an effect on me." Something warm and hard slipped through the small opening created from his raised arm and shoulder. "That's why I chose you."

A shudder tore straight through to his groin as the head of the man's cock grazed first his cheek, then his ear. The man moved against him, back and forth, filling his head with the swish of skin on skin. "Oh my, that is lovely," the man said, changing sides.

Lorne fought the seduction – and Christ, it would be so easy to fall – keeping his head straight. Closing his eyes did nothing to stop the scent of the man from rising on the air, begging Lorne to breathe deeply, to take it in. And Lorne did. Hell, he'd take anything he could have without showing it.

When the touch stopped, he kept his eyes shut and followed the padding of the man's feet again.

"Open them, Major."

The order came from right in front of him. So close, he could feel the heat from the man's skin; the scent of his sex was strong. Lorne refused. He had a good idea where this was going and was determined to resist as long as he could.

The sudden pressure on his cock and balls made him cry out. His eyes flew open to see the man's foot molded over the faded blue bulge. The man pressed hard once more and, dear god, each movement was like tiny electric shocks, better than the nipple play. Only, as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

"Your disobedience won't win you any points with me, Major. In fact, it will only cost you." Harsh words seemed wrong coming from such a handsome face. The man's eyes, though, were hard as flint, his mouth rigid.

Lorne focused on those eyes as the man stepped closer. Had to because, if he watched the man guide his dick over his straining arm, across his collarbone, rub it over his chest, Lorne was sure he'd be running on his last fumes of resistance. He had to struggle to keep his eyes raised, even as he began to feel the weariness in his shoulders. Even as the man stepped closer still.

Lorne sensed the man fingering the cuffs before the man took hold of his hands, tangling their fingers together. He gasped for breath as the man steered the silky-hot shaft across his face, against his cheeks and over his closed lips.

Sweat laced his neck and dripped from his hairline. He still fought it, though he could no longer deny how hot it was making him. How much he wanted to open up and swallow that cock, feel it touch the depths of his throat.

"I know what you're thinking," the man said. Smiling now, his hands slid down over muscles that burned with tension. "You want this, but you're being a good little soldier." The man traced a slow finger over Lorne's lips. "Good boy," he purred. "Stoic to the last."

Then the man replaced his finger with his cock. "Mmmm, this is quite nice… I'm sure I wouldn't even require your mouth."

Lorne gritted a moan through clenched teeth and tight lips.

"Oh, and the result would be so…" The man's voice grew as dark as his eyes. "…to shoot my load all over your face, in your hair… Oh, yes, Major, I do like the sound of that." Saying that, the man trailed his fingertips along the sensitive skin of Lorne's armpits, forcing the Major's groan out in the open. It split the air, harsh and raw, and came from somewhere deep inside the Major.

He expected to feel the man take advantage and enter his mouth, but there was nothing. Really, nothing. The man's hands were gone, he'd stepped back. Lorne sought the man's gaze, hating the look of confused disappointment he knew was painted across his own face. He could still smell the man; the clean, earthy scent covered his skin.

The man stood still, arms crossed over his chest, erection still jutting proudly. "On second thought," he mused, as if he might have been contemplating the weather, "I'd much prefer you cooperative. Hmm, I have to admit, I'm at somewhat of a loss now. Perhaps you need a moment to think yourself." The man turned and padded away a few more feet. Lorne watched as he gathered his clothes and headed toward a door at the far end of the room.

Straining against the harness with what felt like the last of his strength, he called out, "Bellis perennis," then fell forward, giving up to the iron arms.

Bare feet swam into his vision as the clanking chains sounded above him. It was over. He felt the man's hands – warm now, and soft – at his neck and then the tug of the collar was gone. Next one wrist then the other was freed, leaving him to slump to the floor. Relief, as strong as the pain, spread through his shoulders like fire.

His thighs trembled as the man helped him to stand. Arms wrapped around him and Lorne held fast to the bare, slender hips for support. Those same hands cupped his face, tipping it up.

"Evan? Why did you stop me? Are you okay?" The voice was now as soft and gentle as the eyes of the man holding him. His heart began to pound again, desire driving the rhythm.

Lorne jerked forward and closed his mouth over calm, pinked lips – inelegantly and messy – "Bed, doc... now… hell of a day…" Lorne meted out the words between kisses, rubbing the ridge of his cock hard into the well of the man's hip. Even through cloth, the contact sent sparks up Lorne's spine. "No more games… just you… need you…"

Parrish twined a hand into Lorne's hair and tugged his head back smartly. "Then you'll give it to me hard, won't you?" he husked. Evan smiled and shivered at the sting in his scalp and the way the stiff collar dug into his flesh. He swallowed just to feel its grip. "Hard and fast… pounding into me… forgetting everything but me… you inside me… me with you…" Parrish brought his hand up to stroke Lorne's temple. "With you always."

Evan whimpered as Parrish bent close, warm breath glancing off his cheek. "I won't disappoint you, doc."

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by Mischief5


End file.
